Silenced-No More

I posted a blog titled “Silenced” back in 2018. But it is a heavy topic on my heart recently. I refrained from reading that blog so I didn’t ‘borrow’ old thoughts. 2018 was a long time ago. My life is no where near what it was then. So I am going to unpack what The Father is teaching me through this topic of ‘silenced’ through the eyes of who I am now. Then reflect back on where I came from.

I have experienced seasons of silence. In each of those seasons, silence looked different. Some were positive, some were lies, some were refining. There was a time when I let someone I trusted and respected become the ‘voice of God’ to me. What they said, in my mind, was the equivalent of God saying it himself. So when this person in my life made claims on who I was, what I was and wasn’t capable of, I internalized it and changed to fit that mold. Through this, I silenced my voice of worship. I believed I wasn’t cut out to worship; through song, through speaking, through serving, any of it. I was told I needed to worship through silence. In this specific season of my life, I was young and much more confident than I probably needed to be. So to be honest, even today, I wonder if there was truth in what this person said to me. However, the enemies lies got the best of me and rather than me learning humility, I was silenced.
The first instance of this season of silence was when I was in high school. I had a reoccurring dream that I was finishing a worship set and beginning to speak to an arena full of people. I had this dream about twice a year starting when I was about 11 or 12 years old.  In high school, I began being told more and more often how well I wrote, told stories, explained things, and spoke publicly. This grew a confidence in me that I needed to actually pursue this dream I had been having for so many years. So me and one of my friends sat down and wrote a weekend retreat/conference. It was called Destined 2 Be… This whole outline revolved around Psalms 119, the center of the Bible. I LOVED this chapter. Psalm 119 is structured as a poem, like many others but it uses sections based around the Hebrew alphabet. Something very few people knew about me was my fascination with speech and words and language so this chapter was giving me all the feels during this season of my life. 
We worked on this for weeks. We wrote songs, made schedules, wrote a curriculum for small groups and break out sessions. We had study questions, speakers, and topics. Then came the day we were ready to present to some leaders in our life for the opportunity to host this conference. We went in, so excited and ready, gave our whole packet to them and waited. Then we waited, waited and waited some more. As time passed, our enthusiasm dwindled. We eventually reached out and asked to meet to discuss our work. When we met, I can vividly remember this exchange. We were told, “This is a good start but it’s not enough.” There was even a chuckle of disbelief when they realized we were dead serious about wanting to host this event. They began to tell us we weren’t ready for something like this and that we need to leave stuff like this to people ‘called’ to this side of ministry. Devastation set in.
For me, this wasn’t just being told no and getting upset, this was looking to people I trusted, pouring out my heart, revealing a personal and intimate side of my walk with Christ, and being told it wasn’t enough. Before I continue I want to add, I don’t believe for a second that every person involved meant any harm. I think there was truth to some of what they said. We were young, we had a lot to learn about leading people and teaching. I also know I needed to be taught humility and discipline. We definitely needed guidance.
My friend and I talked through the pain of this and decided we were being selfish thinking we knew how to teach people and hold a conference. Our insecurity, doubt, and confusion got to us, and we threw away our plan. We let it go, and didn't bring it up again. We were embarrassed. But again, I don’t believe everyone involved in this meant to do this. That is just how easily our minds can be persuaded by the enemy through fear and doubt. 
After this situation, I stopped thinking about missions, ministry, etc.… This began the first season of silence regarding my identity. I silenced the side of me that wanted to tell people what I was being taught through Bible Studies, sermons, quiet time, and worship. The few times I did open up to someone about feeling silenced and having the desire to speak and share what I am learning, I was told, “Maybe that is just for you and you need to keep it to yourself.” Sometimes that may be true, but I can say with confidence that I knew I was supposed to be sharing. This season lasted for a few years. What was ironic was during this season of me being told to suppress this desire, I was consistently put in situations of leadership. Camp counselor, Sunday School Teacher, small group leader, open the services with prayer and encouragements, and so on. But I did it ‘silently;’ through a filter.  

One of the areas I didn’t really change in was with worship. I loved singing. I loved worship. I wanted more opportunities. I definitely went through a season of wanting to be THE ONE. My heart wasn’t always pure in my motivations for singing at church. I clung to worship. Took every chance I could to sing. I strived to be the one people wanted and chose to lead. It would wreck me when I wasn’t. I took lessons, practiced in my car, tried to sound like the girls who were always chosen, tried to just make myself seen so maybe I would be chosen, not just used as the back up when all the people who were wanted were unavailable. I became stubborn in an attitude of “I won’t be silenced in this too.” Worship through singing became an idol. 

Unfortunately, my song would be silenced. A few years after these events occurred, I went to Haiti. My first trip to Haiti happened during this season of fear induced silence. I am grateful for that. It allowed me to humble myself and see some things I don’t know that I could have before. Then I moved to Haiti for a summer. During this summer, I started writing again. I started speaking. I started writing songs. I was getting my joy back and it was rightly placed this time. It was in Jesus. What He was showing me and teaching me in my time with those kids. When I got back, I shared one of my songs with someone I trusted. They laughed. Actually laughed at me and said “well okay then.” At first I thought the laugh was a good laugh like shock and surprise. But it wasn’t. The discussion afterwards resulted in me being told that worship just isn’t my calling or gift and I should focus my energy on mission work. Again, being told to be quiet. Stop singing. Stop sharing. Just be quiet and do what I am told.
I resented this moment for a long time. I battled that resentment by stubbornly singing more and becoming obnoxious. My obnoxiousness resulted in me being pushed out of worship, teaching, small groups, all of it. I really lost myself and my voice. The louder I got, the more I was silenced. When I moved to Haiti full time, I was convinced my role was to serve silently. Not make any noise. No singing, no speaking, no teaching, just do what I am told when I am told. Looking back, that was so foolish of me. Leading up to moving to Haiti, I traveled and spoke to churches to raise money.  People would tell me how well I spoke, clearly and with conviction. I was acknowledged for my boldness but I was blind to it. I didn’t trust that anymore. I had been told that too much and it left me embarrassed and shamed. 

But God. He didn’t leave me silenced. What a good Father. I have shared some of this in other posts so I won’t go into great detail. I was going through a time of prayer and fasting asking God to reveal to me what lies I was believing. Reveal the voice that was telling me certain things. Was it His voice of correction and guidance or had I been misled by the enemy. This was a TOUGH time. It was like pruning and refining. Revealing deep footholds in my life. Then one day, a man in our village was overcome by a spirit. He was thrashing around so the village tied him up so he wouldn’t hurt himself or anyone else. It was the first time I had seen anything like this and I was scared in disbelief. I ran back to the house to tell them what was going on and there was no urgency. I got angry and ran back to the crowd. I saw one of the people who was staying with us at the time, break through the crowd, kneel down, lay his hand on him and begin to pray. I was humbled. He wasn’t afraid. He knew who was in control. I stepped forward and knelt by my friend and laid my hand on him. I began to tremble. In that moment, The Father allowed me to see the spirit that was on this man. This spirit began to speak all the lies I had been believing. The Father let me literally SEE the voice I was believing. In that moment, a wave of confidence and boldness overcame me. I spoke against the enemy’s lies. I declared the truth over those lies and myself. I claimed MY voice back.
There is so much more to that story that I love to share but for today, for the sake of this post, this will be enough. After this encounter I ran to the house of prayer with my Bible and my journal. I didn’t want to forget or miss anything. One of the leaders I was living with came and spoke to me without knowing what I saw and experienced and began speaking words of encouragement and freedom over me. She specifically said, “The Father is crowning you with His glory.” I knew that meant I was free from this season of fear and silence. It was no coincidence that the next team that came was from my home church. The first thing we all did was go to the house of prayer and worship. But, I was ASKED to lead and sing during this. It was the first time I had led in a year or more. This season of silence was over. 

What is interesting is that even in this moment of writing this down, the thoughts and fears of what people will say or think of me sharing this creep into my mind. Telling me I should stop writing, shouldn’t post this because it doesn’t matter. Crazy how even now, I am still trying to be silenced.
This was the end of my season of silenced worship. Now, we enter the season of quiet confidence. I haven’t spoken much about the details of my time overseas, but one of the few things I do seem to talk about a lot is this time of quiet confidence. My role with the ministry looked different. Everyone had their responsibilities and we all worked together as a team. But I quickly noticed that my role in the ministry house was very different. Most everyone else’s responsibilities started first thing in the morning. Homeschooling, farm work, laundry, cleaning, etc.… but mine didn’t start until noon. In our village, the elementary school kids went to school until noon then the older classes went in the afternoon. I was an administrator for the secondary school so my ‘job’ didn’t start until later in the day. This was odd for me. Quiet. Everyone was doing their own thing and I was alone, silent. I spent the first two or three hours of the day reading and writing. I sat in a chair in the walkway of the house. As the elementary kids would start to pass I would sit on the step and give high fives and hugs. Once they all had passed, I would sit back down and study.
Villagers would stop by to talk, students would stop by for some guidance on their homework, other teachers would come by to ask for my help with typing their tests or help them with their English. They knew I would be there. Sitting in that chair. Willing and available to them. Then when school would let out, I would sit on the porch and listen to them tell me about their day. Then I would join the group of secondary students walking to school. I would listen to them talk and just be kids. But the hardest part was when I was at the school. I only taught two days a week. I taught English to the 9th graders on Tuesday and Thursday. The rest of the week, from 12pm-5pm, I sat in the office. There were days not a single person spoke to me while at the school. It was lonely, dark, silent. I felt useless. Then the Lord revealed to me the concept of quiet confidence.
During this time of my life, I was spending SO much time in the Word and journaling. Every morning, sitting in that chair as I watched the village come to life, then also while I was sitting at the school. I would read, journal, lesson plan, type tests and just be there. I started reading through The Bible. But not just reading, studying. What had I missed all these years? What did the Father want to show me and change in me through reading His Word? During this season of “quiet confidence” I was in Isaiah. The Father gave me those words before I came across them in my daily reading. I was in awe of how He was so gently guiding me to this new season of silence. But this wasn’t fear driven silence, it was confidence driven.
The school was hard like I mentioned above. It took a lot of prayer and ‘hyping’ to get me ready for the hours I would be there. One day, in my quiet time, I saw a vision. The vision started with me at the house. Then there was an angel army standing on each side of the path. They were dressed for war. They were protecting my path all the way to the school. Then, there is a spot where the obvious path ends and it opens up to a field you had to walk through to get to the field. The angels stopped where the path ended. The school had a darkness hovering it, there were spirits and demons going in and out of the classrooms laughing and just creating chaos. There were fiery darts flying through the air. I became overcome with fear then I saw Jesus. He walked to me, took off his cloak and placed it around me. He looked at me and said, “you will feel the fire, but you won’t be burned.” Then he stepped aside gesturing for me to pass him and enter the war zone that was the school. The vision ended. Quiet confidence. He didn’t tell me to prepare for battle, go in there with the Word and start rebuking sin or evil. He didn’t give me a sermon or lesson to teach, He covered me and encouraged me. That was it. That was all I needed. He wanted me to confide in Him. Rest in Him. Be courageous in Him. Not to fight but to be silent. Much like the last story, there is so much more I would love to share and talk about regarding this vision and my time at the school but for now, for this topic, we will move on.
First I thought quiet confidence was only a lesson for me with the school. As I continued in my ministry though, I realized this wasn’t a lesson to be learned and accomplished, it was a discipline to adapt into my identity. Quiet confidence isn’t a season, it is a lifestyle. This resonated in my heart and in my daily life all the way up until I moved back home.
When I came back, the Father had spoken some very specific things to me regarding a plan of action, a calling, a commission. What He spoke scared me. Scared me silent…  He told me I would be used to expose the lies of the enemy within the church. Then as I prayed and journaled about this, He revealed some specific areas within the church I was to expose the lies. When I say church, it is the overall church, not a specific church, religion, denomination, etc, just the church in general. I was excited at first. I had this confidence. I had experienced so much real, raw, uninterrupted time with the Father that I believed what He said, I was ready to do it. Especially since I was struggling so badly with Him telling me it was time for me to leave Haiti. I got home and took some time to transition and really feel what was happening. We didn’t just leave Haiti, we had to evacuate. I didn’t get to tell my students goodbye, my co-workers and teachers, my friends, or anyone. I didn’t get to bring my stuff home. Just one 50lb bag per person was allowed on the tiny plane coming to get us off the island. I was grieving. I was angry. I thought Haiti was supposed to be my life. Now we were leaving. I knew for me, I wasn’t coming back. The Father revealed that to me. In my honest, raw, angry prayers is when He gave me the word of exposing the lies.
I transitioned back slowly. Now really going super public with the fact I was back. As I did start to tell people, the questions and accusations began. The defeat I felt because of the things people were okay saying to me during this time was indescribable. The churches that had supported me didn’t want me to come talk about the ministry or mission anymore. The people who had supported me and prayed for me expressed their disappointment in my ‘failure’ in coming back to the states. I was told by multiple people and churches that I lost the faith. I let fear win by coming back. Even when I tried to show people the journals leading up to us leaving where I had questioned and fought God on this, it didn’t matter. People saw me as a failure. This wasn’t just an assumption either, these were actual words spoken to me about this whole situation.
I tried to stay confident in what I was supposed to do. I tried to stay connected and take opportunities to speak about the ministry we did, the lessons I learned and even get involved in helping with future missions. But, I was no longer the person they wanted to speak. I was told by pastors, friends, mentors, and family, that we don’t talk about those things. It’s too unnatural. We don’t speak about “that side” of missions and ministry. I was constantly told to stop talking about Haiti. I was being self centered trying to make everything about me. All these accusations confused me terribly because I wasn’t just talking about Haiti, I lived there for three years. It seems pretty natural to talk about experiences in your life from a three year span of time right? So I started to suppress my stories, lessons, ideas, and overall, myself. I only spoke about what people ‘wanted’ to hear. I sat quietly in churches. I became afraid of people asking me about Haiti because it always ended with someone telling me to be quiet. I stopped talking to people in general. I stopped giving my opinion. I became a shell. Begging the Father to help me. I was so unhappy.
You may be thinking, okay Brittany, we are five pages in and you are still just telling stories, and you would be right. But, I tell these stories for a couple reasons. One, they were real. They are a true part of me. They helped me become who I am intended to be. The Father never let me stay where I was. He was always there to bring me back to HIS TRUTH despite the lies I let lead me astray. I am sharing this now because I am done being silenced. I am done being told to be quiet. I want to walk in the truth. I want to be obedient in what the Father has called me to do and I can’t do that in silence. I will speak truth. I will expose the lies. I will humble myself to THE TRUTH. I will be disciplined in quiet confidence. I will not take the words and thoughts of this world OVER the word of THE FATHER.
To start this next season, I will write more, I will speak more. I will pray and hope for opportunities to invest and speak to others. I will look for ways to be an encouragement both in word and in person. If you are reading this and you want to know more about Haiti, reach out. I would love to talk to you. If you are reading this and you have questions about faith, missions, worship, or truth, reach out. I would love to connect. If you are reading this and you are a missionary, have been on a mission trip or are planning to go on a mission trip, reach out, I would love to encourage you in prayer, preparation, debriefing, or just listen to your experience. I want to be someone who helps you break your silence. Let’s connect.